


Doesn't Mean Anything

by orphan_account



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Suicide, gendered slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac recalls a sex dream he had about Dennis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doesn't Mean Anything

Mac leaned casually against the brick wall next to the window front of the cramped café, waiting for Dennis to buy his bean water, excuse him,  _coffee_. The sun shone through the clouds briefly, warming his face and forcing him to squint his eyes before the gray overcast took over once more. He tapped his fingers against his pants, sucked his teeth, nearly began whistling, but decided to cross his arms and zone out instead. He really never was good at waiting; that’s why he rarely did. Going ahead with your plans without thinking was much faster and got the job done like right away.  
  
He huffed and let his mind zig zag whichever way it decided to, breathing in 10am air and exhaust fumes. Mac tried to remember what he dreamed about last night; it felt like he could talk about it if someone just gave him the right word. As he racked his brain, he grew more and more pissed, but any anger sunk, forgotten, once he heard Dennis’ voice.  
“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”  
“What took you so damn long?” Mac gestured aggressively, while Dennis sipped his coffee as the pair plodded on to Paddy’s.  
  
“Oh there was a particularly endowed waitress serving me today. She kept saying she didn’t want my number, that she was too young for me, but I persisted. Once she thinks on it, she’ll give me a call, and the process will begin.”  
Mac didn’t want to ask how old this girl actually was because he’d then be bombarded with rationalizations he wasn’t up for this early on a Monday.  
“I was just trying to remember my dream last night,” he’d nodded appropriately at Dennis’ comment before proceeding with his own.  
  
Patches of blue passively fought the dull sky for control of the atmosphere.  Was it going to be dreary or a great day to play Frisbee in the park?  Why couldn’t it make up its damn mind.  
When it seemed like Mac wasn’t going to offer up any more details about his dream, Dennis chimed in, “I dreamed I was banging Jackie Denardo during a house fire and then I jumped out the window,” he took a large gulp of coffee now that it had cooled just the right amount.   
“That’s…dark, dude.”  
“Eh, I got to experience her tits in ways other than the Channel 9 news, that’s how I look at it.”  
Something about this weather, like the days they’d ditch class in high school because it was just too nice outside to care, and the mention of sex had untangled Mac’s mental block, “It’s coming back to me. Mine was a sex dream too.”  
“Yeah?”  
“I remember kissing someone…”  
A small disgusted expression crossed Dennis’ face, “Kissing’s not sex, man.”  
“No there was sex too but also kissing, and we were banging and then we realized we were in the middle of the old gym but no one was around so we kept doing it,” the images flowed from his brain to his mouth with no barrier, “but then it switched so that we were outside in Fairmount Park and people saw us and I don’t know why we didn’t stop, we just kept doing it until a crowd of people had gathered and then they disappeared.”  
“Who?”  
“What?”  
“Who disappeared? Who were you having sex with?”  
  


_Visions of Dennis, 10 years younger, jumped into his mind. He felt their limbs entangle and the intimacy of skin on skin contact, elbows bumping hard on the gym’s wood floor as Mac rubbed their cocks together. Dennis took him in a crocodile embrace and rolled him over a few times until they were in grass, in public and Mac sort of cared but Dennis looked around and decided to give him the dirtiest open mouth kiss of his life, daring the onlookers to watch. He felt like he could rip this younger Dennis apart but Dennis kept pressing him into the earth until he felt like he was being buried alive. Laughter rang out before the warm, sweat soaked body evaporated, passing through Mac like a spirit to ground beneath him. He sat up on the lawn feeling like he was sleeping on a waterbed, ground unsteady and swelling._  
  


Mac had said “we” but didn’t realize he was actually describing the two of them until delving into his memory further, "Oh, uh I’m not sure. I don’t remember."  
“Did she have like big breasts or like a good ass? Anything remarkable or worthwhile to hear about this stupid dream?”  
“I seriously can’t remember, Dennis.”  
“Huh, so you bang in the high school gym and then in Fairmount Park and everyone was watching you, but you can’t remember who you were banging? Jeez, what a story. Why do I let you tell stories, you’re as bad as Charlie.”  
“Yep, nothing else.” He wasn’t flush, but his poker face sucked. All his lies were usually followed by admission of truth because he was one of the most unconvincing liars he knew apart from Dee, he was much better than that bitch.

  
Dennis leveled him with a bullshit cutting glance.  
Mac thought of the first person to come to mind who elicited his disgust, “Alright, it was Margaret McPoyle.”  
“Ew gross, dude, ew, Margaret?”  
"Yes, Margaret McPoyle. Now can we move past it,” Mac attempted to walk slightly ahead of Dennis so that he might not have to look at him when he replied because Dennis was real good at understanding people, most of all when they were bullshitting to him.  
“No, wait, you’re still lying. I know when you’re lying you do that thing where you don’t make eye contact with me and nod a lot and try to change the subject.”  
Mac stopped and looked around before inclining his head and whispering as inaudibly as possible, “It was you, ok.”  
“What? Come on I can’t hear you. Who could possibly be worse than Margaret McPoyle?”  
“It was you, alright. I had a sex dream about you.”  
  
Dennis paused, growing more pleased by the second until Mac wanted to knock that smug look into the nearest wall.  He continued grinning and chuckling and patted Mac’s back, but Mac was still on edge, “Stop laughing at me or I’ll push you in front of a car I mean it.”  Dennis laughed harder and prompted them towards Paddy’s.  
“There’s nothing wrong with having a roommate sex dream. It doesn’t mean anything, I promise,” he instructed Mac like he were informing him on a God given Truth he’d missed out on somehow, “I mean, I’ve had ones about you.”   
  
They were in front of the bar now as if Dennis had planned this announcement to occur just before they entered Paddy’s.  
“You’ve had sex dreams about me?” Mac felt a tug in his stomach, and flashes of his dream resurfaced into his consciousness:  
 _He felt himself grinding into Den’s pelvis, forcing his friend’s cock as far into his ass as he could. A few blurred moments later and Dennis was above and inside him again, alternating between kisses and syrupy phrases like “My sweet boy” and “How does it feel, baby?”  Mac didn’t reply with words as much as the idea of words, the direct translation of feeling to sound._  
   
“Yeah, and they were  _graphic_ ,” Dennis called Mac out of his daydream and inspired a whole new range of dirty images. He finished off his coffee with a wink to Mac, tugging at the door handle.  Mac followed on his heels into their pitiful but proud establishment with no time to dwell on the topic seeing as Charlie and Dee's argument over the merits of Taken 3 had assumed priority.

 


End file.
